Placebo
by Black Velvet Poison
Summary: He wasn't supposed to want him, but he wanted him so much it hurt. He couldn't have him though, so he chose the next best thing. SamBee, BarricadeSam


He ruined me.

He freed me.

I'm not entirely positive what he did to me, but all I know is that I belong to him now. I bear his permanent mark and he knew it and he did it anyway. I hate him, but I loved him while he was doing it. While he dirtied me, making me beg him for more, more, more. I remember that I had gotten home - my parents didn't even care that it was the middle of the night, they assumed I had been with Mikaela - and in a daze I had walked to the bathroom, I had taken off my clothes; I remember that the water had been scalding and I didn't care. As if possessed I had scrubbed. Scrubbed myself till I was raw, then simply sat, staring at the water drops slide down the tile, _wanting_ him.

Wanting him like I did now.

My eyes slid open, unfocused as they stared at the ceiling of my bedroom, hazy with want. I could feel it, the burning, coiling pressure building in me, the powerful thrumming of my pulse sent shivers through me. He wasn't here and I couldn't have him, but… I could have something similar. Sitting up and barely noticing when my feet touched the cold wooden floor, I carefully made my way downstairs and outside.

He was there like he always was. The yellow coloring still bright and attractive in the darkness.

Carefully moving over to him, brushing fingertips over the hood and along the shell of the side view mirror, I whispered, "Bee…"

The door popped open without complaint and I slid in, immediately drowning in the warmth and smell of leather and Bee. It was homely, welcoming, gentle, and soothing. It was the opposite of what I wanted.

Bumblebee stayed silent, naturally assuming that I would tell him what was the matter on my own. Flexing my fingers, I caressed the steering wheel, head tilting to the side, smiling to myself secretly.

"Let's… go for a drive."

------------

He took us to the Lookout, I wasn't surprised.

He seemed curious now, his engine humming as if in question. A question that I would answer soon enough. Bumblebee was not the person I wanted, but he was better than nothing. It didn't even cross my mind to feel guilty about using sweet little Bumblebee like this. My guardian would surely understand.

My hands were on him now. Running over the dashboard, along the steering wheel, the seats, the gearshift.

(His hands were everywhere, rough and unyielding, getting to every single inch of him.)

A confused tremor ran through the car and the radio lit to life, I pushed the button off before he could find something suitable.

"Shh…" My voice was deep, teasing, secretive, perhaps… dangerous, "you'll see soon enough."

("Wh-What are you going to---" The hologram smirked, dark eyes frightening and Sam wasn't sure why that excited him. "You'll see.")

My bare feet caressed the gas and break pedals as I shifted and positioned myself between the front seats. Leaning and dipping I dragged my tongue along the line of the radio, my hands warming the metal of the gearshift, draping myself along the seat. Bee's engine was just a little louder, his frame shaking just slightly.

(His mouth was everywhere just like his hands. Too sharp, too real teeth biting him, breaking skin. A too real, too warm, too wet tongue licking away the blood. Those eyes looking too amused, too smug, too knowing as Sam arched into that mouth.)

"… Bee, I want you to change."

There was no response at first, but then the door opened and I obligingly slid out, petting the dash one last time as I got out. The sound of him transforming excited me, and I'm not exactly sure what I looked like when I stared at him in his true form.

(He was dark compared to Bee, just a bit taller and definitely much more dangerous. Still, for a bunch of hard lines and jagged edges, Sam couldn't help but find that the image made him want him.)

It didn't take a lot to get Bee onto his back, the robot rather willing once he realized exactly what I wanted. I think it might have been cute, a giant, alien robot who doubled as my protector and car had a crush on me. The smile on my face, I could tell, was just a bit bitter.

The panels on his chest slid open hesitantly upon request, and I found myself hypnotized at the sheer _blue_ that radiated off the Spark. For a moment, I ignored it, rubbing my hands along any part of Bee that I could get to. Dipping into the grooves and openings in his armor, touching, feeling, making sure I was rough. I liked rough, and I liked how the metal dug into me. I wouldn't completely satisfy myself though, because I didn't want Bee to know. To find out.

(He wasn't careful with him, bruising him, cutting him, forcing him to touch and to pet, lick, kiss, pull, tug. Sam was panting, writhing and about to bust his jeans. The robot laughed, a deep, scratchy noise that sent fearful shivers through the human. Sam decided, right then and there, that he liked that laugh.)

Slowly I made my way to the Spark, and by that time the robot was writhing. It was interesting to see Bee squirm like that, a sudden thrill running through me at being able to bring Bumblebee to his knees like this. The Spark pulsed, warm and bright.

I think Bee may have been trying to warn me not to directly touch it, but I had already jumped into his chest cavity, pressing my whole body up against it. The result wasn't immediate, there was a second of suspense, a sort of build up that was suddenly released. Bumblebee's head fell back and he shrieked, not in pain but in mind-blowing pleasure that had his circuits burning. He was not alone. Being in direct contact with the Spark was like being thrown in a vat of knives. It felt like burning and being cut up at the same time, but it also felt like I was flying.

I knew I wasn't physically being damaged, and that was just a bit disappointing, but at that moment I didn't care. I clung to the Spark for all I was worth, writhing and screaming just as much as Bee was. Close, so damn close. The Spark pulsed, the raw energy running through me, intensifying everything for just a moment before everything went black.

(He hadn't blacked out when he released, the pain that being in such close proximity with the Spark caused was dulled because the Spark was also dull. He didn't know how he managed to crawl out of the cavity, but he knew he liked the sight before him. Of his abuser panting, his systems switching on and off before lazily staying on. Then just as suddenly he was back in the car, the hologram there again, and there was silence as he was driven home, as if none of it had ever happened.

The passenger door opened, and he was going to get out, no good-byes, no hateful words, no fear. He was grabbed though, lips suddenly covered with another pair, hard and urging as they had been all night. He found himself calmed by it though, kissing back for the first time, whispering his captor's name into it. Then he was outside and the car was driving off…)

I didn't know how long I had been knocked out, but when I came to I was inside Bumblebee's car form; still at the lookout. He was quiet, still not asking any questions - though I'm sure he'd ask at some point - and for now, I was grateful.

"Bee… let's go home."

When I walked out of the garage and moved towards the front door, I couldn't help but stop and look back. Not at the garage, but at the street, remembering… Shaking my head, I turned and went inside, the door clicking lightly as it shut.

("Barricade…")

* * *

I wrote it for a Live Journal community I'm apart of. Thought that I should post it here, too.


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